


Plush

by HoodedFigure_99



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Drabble, I needed to write this, Multi, Other, Plushies, Ridiculousness, small piece
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:14:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21575104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoodedFigure_99/pseuds/HoodedFigure_99
Summary: Emet-Selch finds something interesting on the WoL's bed.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 51





	Plush

**Author's Note:**

> Look this was based off my impressions of this piece:  
> https://twitter.com/zhyphenth/status/1199181748203995138?s=20  
> It's short, its dumb, its ridiculous. Enjoy.

It had taken the Warrior ages to complete their latest work. Unfortunately, there would be no boasting of this achievement, as they squirreled away the materials and made the object alone in their inn room. What would the others think if they saw this? A smile spread across their face as they propped up the handmade doll upon their bed, and grabbed the loaded pack beside it, taking off on another adventure.

—-

It had been a few days, and Emet-Selch had surprisingly not been accosted by either the Scions or the individual of his attentions. He almost felt hurt,  _ almost _ . He guesses that he needs to drop by, to again reiterate his small gift of “assistance”. Aether swirls around him as he moves himself to the Warrior’s dedicated room in the Pendants.

The room was woefully quiet, and the Ascian wrinkled his nose in feigned offense. 

“Hero?” He calls out, but Is met by silence. His mask slips, the practiced sneer dropping from his face. “Gone off without me as usual, I see.” He shrugs and shakes his head, turning to walk toward the door. Something familiar catches his eye from the bed, and his curiosity wins over any concern he had. He lazily walks toward the bed to get a closer look.

He recognizes it within seconds, his eyelid twitching in mild irritation. A well-made plush of… he snaps up the plush and stares down at the large gold eyes sewn carefully onto the skin tone fabric. The prominent third eye twinkled in the light, an addition he found himself admiring slightly. It was him, on a much smaller and (what he considered)  _ cuter _ version of himself. In confusion, he turned the doll over in both hands, eyeing the skill used to make his mini-self. They had put in  _ effort _ to make this rendition of him. He flexed his fingers, squeezing the plush. He really wasn’t sure what he was expecting; perhaps it may have squeaked, one never knows. It didn’t squeak, or speak, or anything  _ interesting _ to him, but he was still kind of fascinated by it.

A noise at the inn door has Emet-Selch at a loss, completely distracted from portaling away. Like a deer in headlights he stands, as the warrior opens the door. His face quickly morphs from awe and surprise, to mild irritation. 

“The hell are you doing in here, Emet-Selch?” The warrior dropped their pack right in the middle of the floor. Their eyes go wide as they see their doll in the hands of the person it was modeled after. Their face changed hues within seconds.

“W..hey! Let that go!” They cry out, intending to rush over and hide their work. The Ascian shoots them a strange look.

“Where...did you get this?” He asked, voice softer than usual.

“I didn’t get it anywhere!” Their face was beet red, and they reach to snag it out of Emet’s hands. With a bored look on his face, he lifts it up, keeping it safely out of the Warriors grasp. His gold eyes track them as they try to jump and catch it.

“You’re telling me that you made this?” A light goes on in Emets head, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “I wonder why you chose  _ my _ likeness,  _ hero _ .” His grin grows wider. “Is it because you  _ want me around _ ?”

The warrior stopped jumping for the toy, instead now looking away from the man before them. They said a few words quietly, almost ashamed.

“Oh hero, you need to speak up,” he teased and squeezed the plush. “If you’d prefer, I could  _ stand-in _ for your doll. Wouldn’t you prefer the  _ real thing _ ?”

Emet-Selch did not, in fact, see the tackle headed his way. Emet-Selch did not complain, either, when hours later the warrior had fallen asleep flopped over him, arms wrapped tightly around him. 


End file.
